


A Cup of Steaming Tea

by attaccabottoni



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: A memory can be too painful that the brain takes it out, Except in a flashback, Gen, Post-Devil May Cry 5, That's my headcanon for Vergil's spotty memory until Capcom says otherwise, There is no actual tea drinking in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attaccabottoni/pseuds/attaccabottoni
Summary: He doesn’t know it yet, but his son has already given Vergil his heart back.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	A Cup of Steaming Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for [Jo](http://twitter.com/Jo_Ngoc_Hang), who inspired me to write a little scene that turned into something this long for a fic with no plot. She does wonderful Devil May Cry fan art, so definitely give her a follow!
> 
> Ever since I put V’s perfume on tsum!Vergil’s hair, I couldn’t stop sniffing him, and that’s what I blame for this. I’m high, y’all.
> 
> This can be read as a sequel, or Vergil’s side, to [A Foreign Country](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22648399), though they can both be stand-alone fics. Since this is me writing Vergil’s POV again, this can also be read as a sequel to [The Taste of Despair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21902848), though that is not required reading either, as this one is a piece of cake compared to that one (which is like swallowing broken glass, not advisable reading when feeling down).

The last time Vergil walked these streets, he was on the path that his quest for power has led him, blind to everything but Yamato and his desperation to regain her.

Now that he has eaten the fruit of the Qliphoth, still he found himself walking these same streets, only this time, trailing after his son, with his brother beside him. 

There was something in the air that sent his senses on overdrive, making him hyper-aware of everything. It wasn’t the distant sounds of the sea, the sunshine making his skin prickle, nor was it the overabundance of pollen in the spring breeze. No lurking shadow of a threat, except perhaps what was beneath their skin, in their very nature.

( _It is because you have come to bring darkness to this place yet again_ , the jagged edges of his mind helpfully supplied.)

(As per usual arrangement, Vergil did not engage.)

It took some work to quell his demonic instincts while Nero has his back to him. Strolling without weapons in full display did not preclude their combat readiness at any given moment, but for the demon part of him, it rankled to follow behind Nero after losing to him in battle, and demanded that the re-establishment of the proper pecking order commence immediately.

A rematch was not his purpose for being here. Though Nero had most cause to resent him, it seemed more likely he merely preferred not to walk abreast of them. As he was straightforward with his insults as with everything else, he wasn’t deliberately goading Vergil into a fight right here in this street by choosing to walk a few steps ahead.

That was not to say Vergil knew anything about Nero for certain.

Vergil could say that he knew of Nero. The impression of him that he received from V upon being reconstituted again was a vague feeling of camaraderie and gratitude tying them together. The raw physicality of crossing swords did more to make it clear that his son had an undeniable claim on him. So when Nero called the Devil May Cry office the other day, Vergil felt obliged to accept the invitation.

Their relationship didn’t carry the same weight as the one he had with Dante. Dying at his brother’s hand once gave him a bedrock certainty that he would never have with anyone else. While he would never accept defeat from his twin, Vergil trusted Dante to see to his utter destruction the moment he stepped out of line. There was no cause to doubt the strength of his resolve.

And yet for his part, Nero seemed to have halted his pursuit of vengeance, and what he sought as recompense instead was his and Dante’s presence for dinner in Fortuna.

He simply didn’t know what to make of Nero.

The meal was still being cooked, which was why, according to Nero, they had the luxury to take the scenic route at a leisurely pace. He had been pointing out spots of interest for the past twenty minutes, peppered with blunt observations about certain townspeople that amused Dante enough to chuckle over. There were also a few short anecdotes about the antics of the orphans, instances of Nico’s explosive encounters with those in Fortuna who were clearly not ready for her arrival, and the multitude of ways Kyrie endeared herself to all and sundry, but there was a dearth of any reference to his past or his own dealings with others.

The conspicuous lack of any greetings to Nero from anyone, and Nero gazing steadily forward regardless of the passerby, wordlessly spoke of the stories Nero chose to keep to himself.

Vergil once thought Dante’s shop was the concurrence of his blind benevolence to humanity and his rejection of their demonic legacy. Seeing how Dante lived as if in permanent exile even with his ties to the people around him, Vergil knew better now. It’s no wonder Nero wound up in the same business.

(He wondered what Eva or Sparda might have said about it.)

( _Had your mother known she would be dying for nothing but a deep well of failure, do you think she might have wished to die for Dante, instead?_ )

Visible further down the street was Nico, who stood outside waiting for them, and immediately started on Dante as soon as they were within earshot. Dante could only look with wide, pleading eyes at Vergil as Nico practically herded him into the garage, babbling about her latest research and need for testing a prototype weapon. Vergil smirked as the legendary devil hunter dragging his feet turned out to be no match for Nico on a mission.

Contrary to his expectations, Nero turned away from that diverting display, and headed towards the field right across the path to the house. Vergil followed suit, and they both leaned on the fence by the side of the road at the same time.

“I’ve made a deal with Nico.” Nero scuffed his boots across the ground. “In return for putting up with me these past few weeks, I’ll let her have her way with Dante before dinner.”

Vergil turned his attention to the hues radiated by the setting sun, his mouth twitching in amusement. “Just what was it she deemed you did to inconvenience her?”

“She said I was getting too mopey.”

“And was her assessment correct?”

“You dropped a bomb on me, only for you drop out of my life again, and I had to even call just to get you to drop back in. I dunno what I expected, but you turned out to be just like Dante.”

( _Why did you ever think you were any better than your brother?_ _There’s no place for you here._ )

“This summer, I’m planning on getting the kids to do some chores at the nearby farm,” Nero said apropos of nothing, jerking a thumb at the barn-like structure in a distance. “The owner there owes me one from having killed the demons that were gonna wipe out his herd a couple of years ago. A little break would do Kyrie some good, and the kids will get paid in cheese while learning if they’d like that sort of work in the future.” His head drooped between his shoulders a little. “In the meantime, I could get those roof and ceiling cracks finally caulked, regrout the bathroom, and fix the creaky cabinets that keep popping open.”

“I’m sure Nico would be happy to lend you a hand with some of those repairs.”

Nero shrugged. “One of us needs to be on the lookout for bringing in jobs, and Nico’s not that kind of engineer. Don’t worry, I didn’t call you here to talk about spring cleaning.”

“I surmised as much. In that regard, Dante and I would be of no help to you.”

“I only mentioned all that because if you notice the leaks, the tiles, and the draft coming in from weird places in the house, they’re all because I’ve been away too much to be of any help around here.”

He found himself reaching up as a prelude to placing a hand on Nero’s arm. The urge startled him, though his face was kept clear from any semblance of affection. It had been a long time since he has used his body for anything other than fighting, so the comfort he meant to convey with touch was jarring by its mere presence.

( _You’ll ruin him more than you already had._ )

( _Be silent_ , Vergil growled back with the force of his human and demonic wills, united for once.)

Nero kept looking intently at the darkening sky, so he didn’t have to look at Vergil’s face. “I have so many questions I want to ask you. What happened to you after Dante killed you?”

(His reticence was not a refusal to answer, or an avoidance of honesty. What little memories he had from that time were marked with the disorienting quality of the rest of his un-life in the Underworld, like so much vitriol filling the bottomless pit in his soul, making him think and feel things that weren’t quite real.)

“And back then, at the top of the Qliphoth, before both of you left, you could have attacked me while I was distracted, killed Dante while you were alone with him in the Underworld, and kept the portal open for the demons to take over. What stopped you? When did you decide not to destroy everything?”

(The significance of his first act upon being reconstituted, picking up the book, was not lost to Vergil, though any explanation seemed inadequate in the face of the pain that he had caused to Nero.)

Nero clasped his hands loosely in front of him. “But there was really only one question that I wanted an answer to, and you gave it. That’s enough for me. Anything else, we’ll take it in as it comes.”

Despite all that had gone through before, Nero wanted nothing from him, and was clearly strong enough to defend himself. He will follow his own way without any help. Still, he seemed content to have Vergil in his life all the same. If before there was only an impassable chasm, there was a suddenly freed up empty space where their lives could now dance around each other, and a fierce desire rose in Vergil to protect this quiet place between them.

(A wisp of a memory passed behind his open eyes.

_He spoke on a register bordering inhuman. “It is beyond foolish of you to trust a monster.”_

_“But that’s not all you are, is it? Just as I, who may not be part-devil as you, can be monstrous too.” There was a delicate tinkling of porcelain as tea was being prepared to be served. The accompanying scent of bergamot wafted through the air. “Besides, you can hardly prevent me from trusting you, unless you kill me. But you won’t.”_

_He prided himself on his hold of his temper, but he could feel he was a hair’s breadth from his Devil Trigger, in reaction to the calm audacity he was faced with at the moment. “You presume—“_

_“Then it would not make a difference if you’ll permit me one more presumption. Perhaps you have cause to hide your heart, because you have too much of it. I do not blame you. I may not have all that there is to know about you, but what I have glimpsed of it is enough for me. Does that satisfy you?”_ )

Vergil stared unseeingly, unsure if he meant to address the woman from memory, or Nero in front of him. “You really shouldn’t trust me.”

Nero whipped his head around at a speed that would have been painful on a regular human. “What the fuck did you say?”

His gaze focused on the blue of his son’s eyes, the shade both familiar and puzzling at the same time. “You heard me.”

Spluttering, Nero abruptly got on his feet and took two steps forward, his threatening aura at odds with his expression of an offended cat. “You’ve got some nerve telling me what to do, when you’re at least ten years too late for that!”

Even with all the power in his possession, Vergil had no way to conceive of the incalculability of his parents’ hearts. Yet he may have discovered a little hint of it, when he could not help but smile in response to his son’s bluster.

Nero seemed to realize that the varied emotions running away from him were clearly displayed on his face, because he quickly turned away. “Anyway, who says I trust you?” He gestured in an exaggeratedly offhand manner with one hand while placing another on his hip. ”You got hit on the head way too many times, old man. Maybe I should suplex you some more to get it working right again.”

As Vergil watched Nero’s back, a seed of understanding started to grow. Perhaps he did not need to know everything about his son to see a glimpse of his heart.

Perhaps she was right all along.


End file.
